Sunday.
Race Day.
The Japanese Grand Prix was about to begin.
At the legendary Suzuka Circuit, the grandstands were packed with spectators.
Tens of thousands of fans filled the seats overlooking the famous figure-eight circuit.
In the main pit area, the atmosphere was electric.
Team crew members moved constantly between the garages, the pit wall, and the paddock behind the pit building. Engineers checked laptops and telemetry screens. Mechanics pushed tire trolleys past one another. Team radios crackled with last-minute discussions.
It was the controlled chaos that only Formula One race day could produce.
Away from the pit lane, in a fairly crowded parking lot near the Suzuka Circuit North Wing, a familiar car sat quietly among the rows of vehicles.
King Halo's Nissan Skyline GT‑R R32.
The Umamusume of Tracen Academy had been invited by the McLaren Formula One Team to attend the race with full VIP access to the paddock.
Attendance wasn't mandatory.
But many of the girls chose to come.
King Halo was one of them.
She sat sideways on the passenger seat of her R32, the door wide open as she adjusted her outfit.
Much like the way drivers dressed for the Hakone Turnpike Time Trial events, Halo had chosen to wear her G1 race outfit.
She leaned down and adjusted the strap of her white Mary Jane heels.
She tugged the bridge strap once more before securing the buckle.
Then she stood upright and gave her right foot a firm stomp against the pavement.
Satisfied.
She nodded to herself.
Turning toward the car, she leaned inside and reached for a pair of dark violet-gray gloves resting on top of the dashboard.
She stared at them for a moment.
Then she shook her head.
"Nah…"
"I'm not gonna wear them."
She grabbed her purse instead and gently shut the door.
Halo crouched beside the side mirror and checked her reflection.
She adjusted the earpiece tucked beside her right ear.
Then she lightly straightened the blue ear covers around her horse ears.
Her ears flicked once.
She stood again.
Nodding.
Right on cue—
Approaching footsteps echoed through the parking area.
Heels clicking.
Sneakers tapping.
Soft thumps from boots and other shoes.
Halo turned around.
And there they were.
Dozens of familiar faces.
Many Umamusume from Tracen Academy had arrived together.
All of them wearing their signature G1 race outfits.
Among them were:
Agnes Tachyon.
Manhattan Cafe.
Symboli Rudolf.
Maruzensky.
Mr. C.B.
Sirius Symboli.
Orfevre.
Air Groove.
Mayano Top Gun.
Haru Urara.
Jungle Pocket.
Gold Ship.
Special Week.
Tokai Teio.
Daiwa Scarlet.
Grass Wonder.
Nice Nature.
Mejiro McQueen.
Mejiro Ardan.
T.M. Opera O.
Sakura Chiyono O.
Super Creek.
Narita Brian.
Most of them had arrived by riding along with friends who owned cars.
Gold Ship raised a hand high into the air.
"YAHOOO, King Halo! We're here!"
King Halo sighed with a small smile.
"Here we go…"
The group approached her.
Rudolf spoke first.
"So… are you ready for this?"
Everyone nodded.
Orfevre glanced sharply at Gold Ship.
"Please behave yourself."
She crossed her arms.
"We're going to be seen by a ridiculous number of people."
"And live television too."
Gold Ship laughed loudly, slapping the air with her palm.
"Relax, Orfe!"
"I'm gonna be totally fine!"
She raised a fist dramatically.
"We're here to give our aura to our friend Silence Suzuka!!"
Sirius Symboli closed her eyes, suppressing a chuckle as the corner of her mouth twitched.
From the back of the group, Haru Urara suddenly ran forward.
"Halo-san! I'm here!"
King Halo's eyes widened.
She crouched slightly to meet Urara's height.
"Urara-chan! I'm so glad you came!"
Urara nodded excitedly.
"Yep! Yep!"
"I'd feel bad if I didn't come support Suzuka-san!"
Halo's smile widened warmly.
"I'm glad to hear that."
Tokai Teio raised a finger.
"So… what's the plan once we reach the paddock?"
Halo stood up and looked at her.
"A representative from Zak will meet us there."
She raised a finger.
"He'll give us our VIP paddock passes."
"And remember—"
She pointed to her neck.
"They must be worn around our necks at all times."
"Just like ID badges."
Gold Ship lazily waved a hand in the air.
"Yeah yeah… whatever."
Then she leaned forward eagerly.
"So can we go now?!"
"I wanna see if they sell yakisoba in there!"
King Halo closed her eyes briefly and smiled.
She let out a long breath.
"Alright…"
She looked toward the towering grandstands of Suzuka Circuit.
"Let's go."
The group began walking toward the entrance.
Then—
The deep rumble of American muscle echoed through the parking lot.
Mayano Top Gun's ears perked up immediately.
"Ooh! I hear the sound of an American big block!"
She turned around to look behind them.
And there it was.
Parking beside King Halo's Nissan Skyline GT-R R32—
A black Ford GT40 Mk II, idling loudly.
The engine growled with that unmistakable big-block V8 thunder.
Then the engine shut off.
The metallic ticking of cooling engine parts followed as heat dissipated through the bodywork.
A moment later—
The right-side door opened.
Stepping out was a blonde Umamusume wearing a black leather jacket.
Mayano chuckled and waved enthusiastically.
"Gold City-san! You made it!"
Gold City softened a little and shut the door with a firm thud.
"Mayano-chan!"
She locked the car and jogged over toward the group, her white-and-black heeled boots clicking against the asphalt.
Stopping in front of them, she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.
"Sorry I'm late! The traffic near Circuit Road was horrible."
Rudolf shook her head calmly.
"No, your timing is perfect."
She gestured toward the entrance.
"We were just about to head in."
Gold City exhaled in relief.
"Glad I made it in time then!"
Rudolf nodded.
"Yes. You did."
King Halo then raised a finger.
"I just got a text from Suzuka."
She looked down at her phone and read the message.
"One of Zak's representatives is waiting at the main gate. He'll confirm your identities and give you Formula One VIP paddock passes. Follow him until you reach the paddock. I'll be waiting for you at the McLaren hospitality suite. See you there."
Halo locked her phone and slipped it back into her purse.
"Well then."
She looked at the group.
"Let's not keep our friend waiting."
The group left the parking area and continued toward the entrance.
Around them, hundreds of spectators were still arriving.
Fans poured into the circuit grounds from every direction.
Soon they reached the main gate.
And waiting there was a man wearing an orange McLaren Formula One Team shirt.
He raised his hand when he spotted them.
The group walked over.
The man bowed politely as they approached.
"You must be our guests from Tracen Academy, correct?"
Rudolf nodded.
"Yes, we are."
The McLaren representative nodded and looked down at the stack of passes in his hands.
He counted the girls standing in front of him.
Then counted the passes again.
Twenty-five.
Exactly the amount he had.
He handed the entire stack to Rudolf.
"Please take one and pass the rest to the others."
He gestured toward the lanyards.
"Wear them around your necks."
"These passes must remain visible at all times so security doesn't stop you."
Rudolf nodded and began passing the stack down the line.
First to Sirius Symboli, then Agnes Tachyon, Manhattan Cafe, King Halo, Haru Urara, and the rest.
One by one, each of them placed the VIP paddock lanyard around their necks.
They glanced at one another once everyone was ready.
The McLaren representative nodded.
"Alright."
He turned and gestured ahead.
"Follow me."
They passed through the main gate and entered the Suzuka Circuit race weekend grounds.
Fans moved everywhere around them.
Many were wearing Formula One team shirts.
Some wore Red Bull Racing gear.
Others wore Scuderia Ferrari red.
There were fans supporting Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team and even Williams Racing.
As the Umamusume walked through the grounds, people began noticing them.
Heads turned.
Some fans whispered to each other.
Then a few began approaching.
"Excuse me! Can we get a photo?"
"Autograph please!"
The girls happily stopped.
After all—
They were celebrities too.
Not in Formula One.
But in the racing world of the Umamusume Racing Association.
They took photos.
Signed autographs.
Spoke briefly with fans who recognized them.
After a few minutes, they resumed walking again.
Grass Wonder chuckled as she walked beside Super Creek.
"Nice to see we're recognized everywhere."
Super Creek nodded warmly.
"It's nice meeting fans from different kinds of sports."
Mejiro Ardan laughed softly.
"Considering how popular Umamusume racing is across Japan, I suppose it isn't surprising."
Chiyono nodded.
"Exactly."
"The fans who watch us race are incredibly passionate."
She smiled.
"They support us through the victories… and the struggles."
Then Chiyono turned toward Nice Nature.
"Say Nature-san."
"How's your Gallardo treating you?"
Nice Nature nodded enthusiastically.
"My Gallardo has been amazing."
"I really love the sound the pre-LP Gallardos make."
Chiyono tilted her head.
"Tubi exhaust?"
Nature shook her head.
"Nope."
She smirked slightly.
"I replaced it with Fluid MotorUnion anti-reversion chamber megaphone F1 exhausts."
Chiyono blinked.
"Fluid MotorUnion?"
"I've never heard of them."
Nature shrugged casually.
"They're a company based in Illinois."
She spread both hands dramatically.
"But trust me."
"The sound they make will blow your ears out."
Chiyono's eyes widened.
"I hope not literally."
Nature laughed.
"I certainly hope not too."
Ahead of the pack, Mayano Top Gun sped up slightly to catch up with Gold City.
She matched Gold City's pace and glanced sideways at her with a grin.
"Seems like there are two muscle-car girls on campus now, huh, City-san?"
Gold City let out a soft chuckle and looked back at her.
"Seems so, Maya-chan."
Mayano leaned a little closer, curiosity written all over her face.
"Seriously though… how can you afford a car that costs almost ten million dollars?!"
Gold City's eyes widened.
For a moment she froze.
Then she looked at Mayano again and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.
"Well… uh… about that…"
Mayano tilted her head.
"What? What is it?"
Gold City scratched the back of her head.
"It's… well… a replica."
Mayano's eyes widened instantly.
"Whaaaat?!"
Gold City nodded.
"Yeah… it's a replica."
Mayano shook her head in disbelief.
"How?! It looks way too accurate to be a replica! Are you sure?"
City nodded again.
"Mhm. It's true."
Then she glanced up at the sky, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"Although… it's a scarily accurate replica."
Mayano raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
Gold City looked back at her.
"The car was built by Holman‑Moody using the exact Ford GT40 Mk II blueprints."
She gestured with one hand as she explained.
"So everything — the chassis, body panels, interior, suspension, brakes, and even the engine — was built exactly like the real car."
She smiled.
"So when I took delivery after it was shipped from the States, it was already essentially identical to a genuine Ford GT40."
Mayano nodded slowly.
"But you eventually modified it, right?"
City nodded.
"Mhm. Quite a bit, actually."
She began counting on her fingers.
"First thing I did before driving it was install a proper speedometer with a mileage counter."
"Then later on I had the suspension tuned for road use, swapped the brakes with ones from a 2006 Ford GT, and replaced the transmission with a Mark I GT40 five-speed to ease stress on the clutch."
She continued casually.
"I also added air conditioning, power steering, and had the engine completely rebuilt."
Mayano's ears twitched with excitement.
"What kind of rebuild?"
Gold City answered without missing a beat.
"New carburetor, intake, upgraded fuel system, improved oil system, new ignition and distributor, forged pistons, stronger rods… the works."
Mayano's eyes practically sparkled.
"So how much power does it make now?"
Gold City glanced upward for a moment, recalling the dyno numbers.
Then she looked back at Mayano.
"The original 427 cubic-inch Ford big-block made about 485 horsepower."
She raised a finger.
"After the rebuild?"
She smirked slightly.
"647 horsepower on the dyno."
Mayano's eyebrows lowered a little as she processed that number.
Then she looked at Gold City again.
"Isn't that a bit too much power for a GT40?"
Gold City shook her head confidently.
"Nope. Not at all."
"With the upgrades, the top speed increased to around 364 kilometers per hour."
She continued calmly.
"And the 0-100 km/h time dropped from about 4.2 seconds to roughly 3.5 seconds."
Mayano slowly nodded.
"That's… actually pretty impressive."
Gold City smirked and looked ahead again.
"Well…"
She shrugged lightly.
"It's my daily driver, after all."
Then she chuckled.
"Hell, some racing historians genuinely believe it's a real GT40."
Mayano raised an eyebrow.
"No way. Seriously?"
Gold City laughed softly and nodded.
"Yeah. One guy even offered me twelve million dollars for it."
She then glanced at Mayano.
"When I showed him the documentation proving it was a replica…"
She snorted.
"The guy looked completely dumbfounded."
The group continued walking.
They crossed a road near the F1 Fan Zone and passed several VIP suites before reaching the back side of the grandstands.
Soon they approached a concrete tunnel that ran beneath the circuit.
The sound of engines roaring somewhere above them echoed faintly through the passage as they walked through it.
At the other end, the tunnel sloped upward.
They climbed the incline.
And then—
They emerged directly into the heart of it all.
The Formula One paddock.
The group slowed slightly as they took in the sight.
To the right stood the team garages, mechanics and engineers moving rapidly as they prepared the cars.
To the left were the towering team motorhomes, where hospitality suites and team offices were set up.
People were everywhere.
Engineers in uniforms.
Team principals speaking with media.
Crew members wheeling equipment.
And among them—
Celebrities.
Sponsors.
VIP guests.
The energy of a Formula One race day filled the air.
They continued walking forward.
At the far end of the paddock stood a sleek black-and-orange structure.
The McLaren hospitality suite.
The group stopped in front of the entrance.
The representative turned toward them with a polite smile.
"Welcome to our hospitality suite. I hope you all enjoy your stay."
He began to walk away.
Then suddenly paused.
"Oh, right."
He turned back toward them.
"By the way… Suzuka and Zak are already inside."
Then he nodded politely and continued walking toward the garages.
King Halo blinked.
"Well… that was… something."
Orfevre chuckled softly.
"Well, he does have a team to prepare."
She shook her head slightly and stepped toward the entrance.
"Come on."
She glanced back at the group.
"Let's go see Suzuka."
And together, the Umamusume of Tracen Academy stepped into the McLaren hospitality suite.
The group entered the hospitality suite, with King Halo pushing the door open first.
A wave of cool, air-conditioned air greeted them instantly.
Haru Urara sighed happily, raising her arms slightly.
"Ahhh… nothing beats the cold air of a hospitality suite!"
Then—
A man stepped out from a smaller room further inside.
"Ah! Fellas! So glad you came!"
King Halo bowed politely.
"I hope we didn't arrive uninvited, Zak."
The man smiled warmly.
It was Zak Brown.
"So great to see you all here! Thanks for coming!"
He then gestured behind him toward the room he had just exited.
"I was just about to have a short briefing with Suzuka and one of the stewards about the tribute lap happening in… about ten, twenty minutes."
Narita Brian raised a hand slightly.
"Please, sir. Don't let us take up your time."
Zak nodded appreciatively and stepped back into the room.
The group began spreading around the hospitality suite.
Inside the small meeting room sat Silence Suzuka, already wearing the red Marlboro-era race suit styled after the historic McLaren MP4/4 team colors.
Seated with her were Stefano Domenicali, Rui Marques, and Zak himself.
Zak sat down again and bowed his head slightly.
"Sorry about that. I had guests arriving."
Rui Marques shook his head.
"No problem."
He folded his hands on the table.
"Alright. I'll make this quick. The driver's parade is about to begin."
He tapped the table once.
"So, the tribute run will be four laps."
He raised four fingers.
"One warm-up lap."
"Two fast laps."
"And one tribute lap where you slow down."
He continued.
"At the end of the tribute lap you may either return to the pits, stop on the front stretch, or perform a few donuts before stopping."
He nodded.
"A reporter will approach you afterward for a short interview."
Stefano leaned forward slightly.
"Make it a lap that brings back memories."
Suzuka nodded calmly.
"I'll do my best."
Stefano and Rui exchanged a quick glance and nodded.
Rui looked back at Suzuka.
"Then everything is settled."
Everyone stood.
Stefano extended his hand.
Suzuka shook it.
"Welcome to Formula One, Miss Suzuka. I hope you enjoy the experience."
Suzuka bowed slightly.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Domenicali."
She then shook hands with Rui.
Rui and Stefano both exchanged a final handshake with Zak before leaving the room and heading back toward the garages.
Zak and Suzuka looked at one another.
Zak spoke first.
"Are you ready for this, Suzuka?"
Suzuka nodded.
"It's like a G1 race."
She smiled faintly.
"I'll be fine."
Zak grinned.
"That's what I like to hear, superstar."
"I'll see you at the garage in a few minutes."
He then left the room and exited the hospitality suite.
Suzuka pulled out her phone.
11:50 AM
The driver's parade would begin soon.
Unlike the tribute run of the Ayrton Senna McLaren MP4/5B at the 2024 São Paulo Grand Prix, where Lewis Hamilton drove the car before the parade, today's tribute had to be scheduled differently.
Because the Porsche Carrera Cup Japan race was held right before the parade, there simply wasn't enough time to prepare the car beforehand.
So the tribute lap was scheduled after the parade.
That gave the team roughly one hour and fourteen minutes to prepare the car.
Suzuka slipped her phone back into her pocket and stepped out of the room.
Inside the restaurant area, everyone from Tracen was gathered.
Gold Ship raised a hand while still chewing on yakisoba.
"O-Oi! Suzuka's here!"
Suzuka laughed softly.
"Hey everyone."
She bowed politely.
"Thank you all so much for coming. I really appreciate your support."
Haru Urara immediately gave a thumbs-up.
"No need to thank us, Suzuka-san!"
Sirius Symboli nodded.
"Anything for a fellow Umamusume."
Symboli Rudolf chuckled.
"We were even stopped by fans asking for autographs and pictures."
She glanced at Sirius.
"Seems we're just as popular as the Formula One drivers."
Sirius nodded calmly.
"Mhm."
Suzuka crossed her arms and lowered her head slightly.
She walked a short distance away.
Her eyebrows lowered.
Her eyes closed.
Then—
She began imagining the track.
Her mind raced like she was already behind the wheel at Suzuka Circuit.
Inside her thoughts, she began speaking.
"Take the first corner flat… then hard on the brakes."
"Don't hesitate to over-rev from sixth. Down through fifth, fourth, third."
"Stab the throttle, blip it for turn-in at Turn Two."
Her eyes squeezed tighter.
Her hands started moving in the air like she was holding a steering wheel.
Her feet tapped lightly against the floor like pedals.
"Mash the gas toward the exit apex. Shift to fourth."
"Keep it in fourth through the S-Curves… Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven."
"Blip the throttle mid-corner for rotation."
"Half throttle for a split second at Turn Seven… then flat out."
Her hands turned an invisible steering wheel.
"Clip the apex at the Degner corners… use half the exit."
"Hard on the brakes at Turn Nine. Down to third. Back on the gas."
Her right hand moved to an imaginary shifter.
"Row through the gears. Fourth… fifth…"
"Brake hard before Turn Eleven."
Her right foot stomped slightly as if hitting the brake pedal.
Her heel twisted as if performing a perfect heel-and-toe downshift.
"Fifth… fourth… third…"
"Blip the throttle. Rotate the rear."
"Aim for the exit apex."
"Flat on the floor."
"Third… fourth… fifth… sixth."
Then—
Her eyes opened.
Standing in front of her were Symboli Rudolf, Special Week, Mejiro Ardan, and Sirius Symboli.
Suzuka jumped slightly.
"Ah! W-Was I speaking out loud again?"
Symboli Rudolf smirked.
"It seems Suzuka is taking this tribute drive very… Sirius."
Special Week smirked.
Nice Nature burst out laughing.
"Nice one, Kaichou!"
Air Groove immediately face-palmed.
Sirius Symboli twitched.
Then she looked directly at Rudolf.
"Are you fucking kidding me? The jokes are back?!"
Rudolf nodded calmly.
"It's not like they disappeared."
She raised a finger.
"They just… took a brake."
Nice Nature laughed even louder.
Air Groove covered her face.
"Make it stop… make it stop… make it stop…"
Sirius face-palmed.
"Can you believe she's my childhood friend?"
Mejiro Ardan chuckled politely.
"She certainly is, Sirius-san."
Special Week tilted her head.
"W-What were you doing, Suzuka-san?"
Suzuka softened and smiled.
"I was imagining driving the track in my mind."
Special Week scratched her head.
"Huh?"
Suzuka bowed slightly, still smiling.
"It's a fairly common practice for racing drivers."
She looked at Special Week.
"Visualizing the lap helps optimize performance. It allows you to rehearse and refine your racing lines before you actually go out and drive."
Special Week nodded slowly.
"Ah! I see!"
Time passed.
12:20 PM.
The Drivers' Parade was nearly finished.
The garages buzzed with activity.
Mechanics moved quickly.
Engineers checked equipment.
And sitting quietly at pit entry—
Was Silence Suzuka, inside the legendary McLaren MP4/6.
Suzuka sat silently in the cockpit.
Her HANS device was already secured around her shoulders.
Her balaclava rested on top of her head, ready to be pulled down.
And resting on her lap—
Her helmet.
The same helmet she had worn only days earlier.
Behind the McLaren pit stand stood the Umamusume from Tracen Academy.
They kept a respectful distance from the car.
Mejiro McQueen sighed and glanced at Gold Ship.
Gold Ship was still happily eating yakisoba.
McQueen shook her head.
"Are you seriously not done yet?"
Gold Ship looked at her blankly.
"Why? You got a problem?"
McQueen sighed again.
"You do realize we might appear on camera, right?"
Jungle Pocket shook her head and slipped her hands into her jacket pockets.
"Forget it, McQueen. At this point, why even bother?"
Gold Ship raised an eyebrow.
"What is that supposed to mean, Pokke?"
Pocket looked directly at her.
"Please don't embarrass yourself in front of the entire world."
Gold Ship chuckled.
"Relax! I've only got one piece left!"
Nearby, the F1TV camera crews began positioning their equipment.
It was almost time.
Inside the cockpit—
Suzuka opened her eyes and looked to her left.
Her crew chief was crouched beside the car.
He tapped the edge of the cockpit.
"Alright, Suzuka. It's almost showtime."
He nodded.
"Get ready."
Suzuka nodded calmly.
"Alright."
She pulled the balaclava down over her head and pressed the radio earpieces securely into place.
Then she tucked the balaclava neatly into the collar of her race suit and fastened the Velcro.
Next—
She lifted her helmet.
Slowly lowering it over her head.
A mechanic stepped forward and connected the radio tether.
Another tugged firmly on the shoulder harness straps to tighten them.
Suzuka reached beneath the helmet and secured the chin strap.
The mechanic patted her shoulder.
"Ready?"
Suzuka nodded.
She gave a thumbs-up.
On track—
The parade truck came to a stop on the start–finish straight.
The Formula One drivers began stepping down from the vehicle.
Track marshals returned to their positions.
The circuit prepared to go live again.
Then—
The circuit-wide intercom crackled to life.
"Ladies and gentlemen, now that the Drivers' Parade has concluded, we have a special tribute demonstration."
"Presented by McLaren, we will see the historic McLaren MP4/6 return to the Suzuka Circuit."
"The MP4/6 remains the only V12-powered Formula One car to win both the Drivers' and Constructors' Championships."
"It is also the final manual-transmission Formula One car to win a championship."
A pause.
Then the announcer continued.
"Driving the MP4/6 today is a racer from another discipline of motorsport."
"She is a two-time Hakone Turnpike Time Trial Champion, known for a driving style reminiscent of the late, great Ayrton Senna."
"Ladies and gentlemen—"
"Please give a huge round of applause to the legendary front-runner Umamusume—"
"Silence Suzuka!"
The crowd erupted.
Cheers.
Applause.
Thousands of voices filled the grandstands.
The broadcast cameras switched to Suzuka.
Now—
The entire world was watching.
On YouTube, the onboard feed from the MP4/6's cockpit camera streamed live.
The camera was mounted on the right-side body panel.
Every movement inside the cockpit was visible.
A mechanic raised a hand.
Then rotated a finger in the air.
The signal to start the engine.
Behind the car, another mechanic inserted the external starter.
It engaged.
A sharp mechanical whirring sound filled the pit lane.
Then—
Suzuka flipped the fuel pump switch.
Then the ignition.
The 3.5-liter Honda RA121/E V12 roared violently to life.
The sound exploded through the pit lane.
High-pitched.
Mechanical.
Alive.
The external starter was quickly pulled away and rolled back toward the pit exit wall.
Suzuka glanced around the cockpit.
She gently pressed the throttle.
BRAAAAP!
The V12 barked with a sharp warm-up rev.
Then her radio crackled.
"Radio check, Suzuka-san. How copy?"
Suzuka pressed the PTT button on the steering wheel.
"Loud and clear."
Her crew chief nodded while watching the telemetry screen.
"Alright. A few reminders."
He raised a finger.
"First— the engine is running at full RPM today. 13,500 is the limit."
Another finger.
"Second— no standing starts. The Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile is very strict about that."
He continued.
"After the final corner of the warm-up lap, begin your two fast laps."
"On the fourth lap, slow down and wave to the fans."
He snapped his fingers suddenly.
"Oh! Almost forgot."
"There's a Brazilian flag tucked to your left."
He smiled.
"Pull it out and let it wave in the air while you're driving."
Suzuka nodded.
"Understood."
The crew chief looked up and gave her a thumbs-up.
"Alright Suzuka."
"Pit exit is green. Begin your warm-up lap."
Suzuka nodded.
She pressed the clutch.
Then slid the gear lever into first gear.
The engine screamed up to 10,000 RPM.
Slowly—
She released the clutch.
The MP4/6 began to roll forward.
Suzuka fully released the clutch and gently pressed the throttle.
The car accelerated toward the pit exit.
And as the legendary McLaren MP4/6 returned to Suzuka Circuit after decades—
The fans erupted once more.
Inside the McLaren garage—
The group from Tracen Academy watched the broadcast feed on the monitors.
As the McLaren MP4/6 rolled out onto the circuit, they burst into cheers and applause.
Special Week pumped her fist into the air.
"Suzuka-san looks so damn cool!"
Daiwa Scarlet nodded, eyes glued to the screen.
"She's got the whole world's attention now."
She leaned forward slightly.
"This is live… like real-time live."
Beside them, T.M. Opera O placed one hand dramatically over her chest while raising the other as if addressing an audience.
"Oh, how happy I am for her!"
She declared with theatrical flair.
"She has obtained the spotlight I have always dreamed of!"
Then she smiled warmly.
"She now stands upon the center stage."
On track—
Suzuka guided the MP4/6 carefully through the final sector, steadily warming the tyres and brakes around Suzuka Circuit.
As she exited the Casio Triangle, her radio crackled.
"Alright Suzuka. Tyres are good."
A pause.
"Push, push."
Suzuka pressed the PTT button.
"Copy. Push."
Her eyes narrowed behind the visor.
Then—
She floored the throttle.
The MP4/6 lunged forward.
Suzuka shifted one-handed through the gears.
Third.
Fourth.
Fifth.
As she exited Turn 18 and entered the front straight—
Sixth gear.
The speed climbed rapidly.
209 km/h.
242 km/h.
286 km/h.
As she crossed the start-finish line, the screaming V12 echoed through the grandstands.
The sound of the Honda RA121/E V12 filled the circuit.
By then—
She had already passed 300 km/h.
The braking boards rushed toward her.
The 50-meter board flashed by.
Then—
Hard on the brakes.
From sixth gear—
Down to fifth.
Fourth.
Third.
The engine briefly over-revved to 14,050 RPM.
Suzuka trailed the brakes smoothly into Turn 1.
The car slowed progressively as she guided it toward the outer apex.
Then she aimed the nose toward the inner apex of Turn 2.
A quick throttle blip.
The rear rotated.
The car pointed toward the exit.
Then—
Full throttle.
Third gear.
Fourth.
The engine screamed to redline as she entered the S Curves.
Turns three through seven came rapidly.
Suzuka balanced the throttle with precision.
Blipping the gas mid-corner to rotate the rear slightly and keep the nose tucked in.
Through Turn 7 she entered at roughly 75 percent throttle.
She clipped the inside apex.
Reduced throttle smoothly to 50 percent.
The nose tightened further.
Apex hit.
Then—
Flat out again.
The MP4/6 surged forward.
Fourth gear.
Fifth gear.
The engine screamed toward redline again by the 50-meter braking board.
Then—
Hard braking.
Suzuka eased off the brakes while turning.
Downshift to fourth.
She clipped the inside apex of Degner Curve.
Back on the throttle.
Exit apex.
The V12 screamed again toward redline.
Then—
Hard braking again.
Downshift to third.
She turned into Turn 9.
The car clipped the apex.
For a split second—
The right-side wheels lifted slightly over the curb.
Then slammed back down.
Sparks burst from the titanium skid blocks beneath the chassis.
Back on the throttle.
Third gear.
Fourth.
Fifth.
She entered Turn 10 flat out.
At the end of the corner—
Hard braking again.
Suzuka performed a perfect heel-and-toe downshift.
Fifth.
Fourth.
Third.
Second.
She turned sharply left into the hairpin of Turn 11.
Suzuka rhythmically blipped the throttle.
The rear stepped out aggressively.
She counter-steered right.
Caught the slide.
Then floored the throttle.
The RPM soared.
The tyres regained grip.
The engine briefly dropped in revs as traction returned—
Then screamed upward again.
Third gear.
Fourth.
Fifth.
Flat out through Turn 12.
The car approached 300 km/h.
Then—
Between the 100 and 70 meter boards—
Suzuka slammed the brakes.
Entering Spoon Curve.
Downshift.
Heel-and-toe.
Fifth.
Fourth.
Into the apex.
Back on throttle.
A moment of understeer.
Suzuka blipped the throttle.
The rear rotated just enough.
Back to full throttle.
Then braking again for the second apex.
She clipped the left apex.
A quick throttle blip.
The rear slid slightly—
Then regained grip.
Full throttle again.
She exited onto the long straight leading to 130R.
Fourth gear.
Fifth.
Then sixth.
Speed surged past 300 km/h again.
The car peaked at 311 km/h.
Then—
Suzuka turned sharply left into 130R.
The chassis bottomed out.
Sparks erupted beneath the car.
Speed dropped slightly.
311… down to 306 km/h.
Her right foot remained flat on the throttle.
Then—
At the 100-meter board—
Hard braking.
Heel-and-toe downshift.
Fifth.
Fourth.
Third.
Second.
She entered the Casio Triangle chicane.
Right apex.
Then left.
Back on the throttle.
The rear stepped out slightly.
Suzuka corrected instantly.
She powered through the final corner—
Turn 18.
Third gear.
Fourth.
Fifth.
Sixth.
Back down the main straight.
Across the start-finish line once again.
Suzuka's radio crackled.
"Nice lap, Suzuka."
A short pause.
"One more lap."
Suzuka didn't respond.
Her focus remained absolute.
Inside the McLaren garage, the group watched intently as Silence Suzuka began her second fast lap.
Maruzensky sniffed quietly, wiping the corner of her eye.
"Man… that was… emotional."
Narita Brian shook her head slightly.
"Don't get so emotional, Maruzensky."
Maruzensky chuckled softly.
"Of course I'm not."
She turned her eyes back to the monitor.
"I'm just… very proud of what Suzuka has accomplished."
Nearby, Mayano Top Gun watched the onboard feed on her phone through the official Formula One YouTube broadcast.
The live chat was exploding.
Messages flooded the screen.
Fans praising Suzuka's driving.
Some even saying she was driving the car exactly the way Ayrton Senna used to.
Others compared her style to Senna's legendary qualifying lap at the 1991 Japanese Grand Prix.
Behind them—
Zak Brown suddenly clapped loudly.
"Nice lap, Suzuka! Yes!"
He grinned at the timing monitor.
"1:35.73!"
Maruzensky's eyes narrowed.
"One thirty-five point seven three…?"
She slowly turned toward Manhattan Cafe.
"What was the pole position lap time during that race?"
Cafe quietly pulled her phone from her coat pocket and searched.
A few seconds later she looked up.
"One minute thirty-four point seven."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Set by Gerhard Berger."
She blinked.
"Why?"
Maruzensky stared at the timing monitor.
Then she glanced toward Zak.
Then back to the group.
Special Week noticed her expression immediately.
"W-What's wrong, Maruzen-san?"
Maruzensky slowly scanned the garage.
Then looked back at them.
"I don't know about you…"
She paused.
"But Suzuka might break Berger's pole lap."
Sirius Symboli chuckled.
"You have to remember something."
She folded her arms.
"The Suzuka Circuit layout has changed over the decades."
Grass Wonder tilted her head.
"Changed?"
Sirius nodded.
"Mhm."
"The track is slightly shorter now."
"And 130R can be taken flat-out today."
She glanced toward the pit lane.
"Back then it was much bumpier."
"And extremely dangerous."
Her ears suddenly twitched.
She turned toward the pit exit.
"Suzuka's coming."
The McLaren MP4/6 blasted past the garage.
The screaming V12 echoed violently through pit lane.
Suzuka had completed her fast laps.
Everyone turned back to the monitor.
And then—
The timing appeared.
1:33.712
Silence filled the garage.
Maruzensky stared.
Speechless.
The others stared at the screen in disbelief.
Nearly one full second faster than Berger's 1991 pole lap.
But Zak—
Zak Brown simply began clapping enthusiastically.
"That's it! Yes!"
Then the garage monitors switched back to the live broadcast feed.
On screen—
Suzuka slowed slightly as she entered Turn 1.
Her hand reached inside the cockpit.
She pulled something free.
Then—
She unwrapped it.
A flag.
It unfurled and fluttered beside the cockpit.
A Brazilian flag.
A tribute to Ayrton Senna.
The crowd erupted again.
Cheers echoed across the grandstands.
The circuit announcer returned over the intercom.
"And that concludes the tribute demonstration lap!"
"Driven by Umamusume racer Silence Suzuka!"
The announcer's voice rose with excitement.
"She has recorded a lap time of one minute thirty-three point seven one two!"
"Nearly one second faster than the pole position time set by Gerhard Berger in 1991!"
Applause thundered across the circuit.
Suzuka continued around the track.
Not too fast.
Not too slow.
Just fast enough to let the fans see the legendary McLaren MP4/6 once more as it circled Suzuka Circuit.
The screaming V12 echoed one last time as Suzuka guided the McLaren MP4/6 onto the main straight of Suzuka Circuit.
The crowd was still roaring.
Grandstands full.
Cameras everywhere.
Suzuka rolled gently down the straight.
Then—
She steered the car slightly sideways and brought it to a stop just past the start–finish line, the nose angled toward the track.
The engine idled for a moment.
She reached forward and carefully draped the Brazilian flag over the nose of the car, letting the green and yellow fabric rest across the dashboard and the front bodywork.
A tribute.
To Ayrton Senna.
Suzuka reached down.
Click.
The engine shut off.
Silence replaced the high-pitched scream of the V12.
She unlatched the harness.
The shoulder belts slid away from her chest.
Suzuka pushed herself up from the tight cockpit, bracing a hand on the side of the chassis as she lifted herself out of the car.
The crowd erupted again as she stood beside it.
Suzuka lifted one hand and waved.
With the other, she pushed her helmet visor upward.
Bright sunlight filled her vision.
She turned and looked back at the MP4/6.
Then she walked slowly to the front-left tire.
She crouched down beside it.
Lowering her head slightly.
For a moment, the cameras and the cheering crowd faded away.
Suzuka whispered quietly.
"Thank you… for everything."
She smiled gently.
Then she stood up again.
Her hands moved to the tethers connecting her helmet to the HANS device. She unclipped them one by one.
She slid the HANS device off her shoulders and carefully set it on the seat of the MP4/6.
Next came the helmet.
Suzuka unfastened the chin strap and lifted the helmet away, setting it gently beside the HANS device.
Her long hair spilled free as the wind caught it.
She loosened the top of her race suit, peeling the zipper halfway down before pulling the balaclava free from around her neck.
She tossed it lightly into the cockpit.
Then she zipped the suit back up and secured the Velcro collar.
By then—
The media had arrived.
An interviewer approached with a cameraman close behind.
Photographers flooded onto the straight, some kneeling on the asphalt while others stepped carefully onto the grass beside the track.
Camera shutters exploded in rapid bursts.
Suzuka turned toward the interviewer as he spoke into his microphone.
"Silence Suzuka! Welcome to Formula One!"
Suzuka nodded politely as he handed her a microphone.
"We're so happy to have you here."
He gestured toward the MP4/6 behind her.
"And we're even happier to see the McLaren MP4/6 back in action."
He turned back to her.
"So tell us… how does it feel to be here?"
Suzuka chuckled softly and raised the microphone.
"First of all, I'd like to thank Zak Brown and the entire McLaren team for this opportunity."
The crowd cheered again.
"And… it feels amazing to be here."
The interviewer laughed.
"Were you nervous at all?"
Suzuka shook her head.
"Not really."
"It's similar to running a URA G1 race."
She smiled.
"Though anyone who's raced in one knows what happens afterward."
The interviewer nodded knowingly.
"Ah yes! The concert after the race!"
Suzuka nodded.
"That's right."
He leaned forward slightly.
"You've gathered quite a following recently—not just here, but online as well."
"People were digging up footage from your Hakone Turnpike time trial."
He chuckled.
"And they noticed something."
He pointed toward the MP4/6.
"You drive like Ayrton Senna."
Suzuka sighed lightly but smiled.
The interviewer leaned in closer.
"Any comment on that?"
Suzuka chuckled.
"I think it's just coincidence."
The interviewer tilted his head.
"What, the way you blip the throttle like someone playing a racing simulator?"
Suzuka laughed.
"No, no."
"I blip the throttle intentionally."
"Mostly to induce oversteer mid-corner."
The interviewer nodded, impressed.
"And of course… this wasn't your first time driving a Formula One car."
Suzuka nodded.
"Last year I drove this same car at the Goodwood Festival of Speed."
"That's right!" the interviewer said excitedly.
"And you're returning to Goodwood again this year—along with appearing at the Historic Monaco Grand Prix!"
Suzuka nodded again.
"That's correct."
The interviewer smiled and bowed slightly.
"Silence Suzuka, we hope you enjoyed your time here—and we hope you enjoy the race later today!"
Suzuka nodded warmly.
"We will. Thank you."
She lowered the microphone and waved again toward the stands.
The crowd answered with thunderous cheers.
Behind her, McLaren mechanics rolled the MP4/6 slowly backward and guided it toward pit lane.
Suzuka turned and walked toward a small gate near the pit exit fence.
A marshal helped her climb up the short barrier.
She hopped down on the other side and began walking back toward the McLaren garage.
Inside the garage—
Applause broke out.
Suzuka blinked in surprise as the entire group clapped.
As she stepped inside, she nearly bumped into Lando Norris.
He grinned.
"Hey, Suzuka."
"That was a great lap."
Suzuka smiled and nodded.
"Thank you."
The two exchanged a quick dap before heading their separate ways.
Special Week rushed forward.
"You were amazing, Suzuka-san!"
Suzuka nodded.
"Thank you, Spe-chan."
Maruzensky crossed her arms.
"Do you even know your lap time?"
Suzuka tilted her head.
"No… why?"
Sirius Symboli smirked.
"Because you beat Gerhard Berger's pole time."
Suzuka froze.
"Wh—What?!"
Symboli Rudolf nodded calmly.
"That's correct."
Before Suzuka could react further—
A voice spoke behind her.
"Suzuka! Great lap!"
She turned around.
It was Zak Brown.
"The fans absolutely loved it!"
Suzuka bowed slightly.
"Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
Zak smiled.
"No, thank you."
"The honor's ours."
He glanced around at the group.
"And it's great having you and your friends here."
Suzuka smiled.
"Of course."
Zak gave her shoulder a friendly pat before heading off toward the pit wall.
Suzuka turned back toward the others.
"You aren't serious about me beating Berger's lap time…"
Agnes Tachyon stepped aside and pointed toward the timing monitor.
"Feel free to confirm it yourself."
Suzuka stepped forward.
She squinted at the display.
There it was.
Lap 3 — 1:33.712
Suzuka blinked.
"Whoa…"
Tachyon nodded slowly.
"Indeed."
"Whoa."
Suzuka smiled quietly.
"Fast or slow…"
She looked back toward the track.
"...that's an experience I'll never forget."
Outside, preparations for the Japanese Grand Prix continued.
Engines fired up.
Teams rushed through their final checks.
The grandstands buzzed with anticipation.
And somewhere out there—
A legend had just been honored.